


Forever

by Come2findme



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Character Death, Established Relationship, Flashbacks, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-18
Updated: 2014-08-18
Packaged: 2018-02-13 18:24:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,498
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2160525
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Come2findme/pseuds/Come2findme
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Derek’s knuckles whiten from his grip on the steering wheel. Everyone was trying to get him to go to the Stilinski’s house tonight but he just couldn’t do it. Not after everything that happened. How could they ask him to set foot in that house after Stiles left him like he did. His eyes start watering and he glares out the window at the sun, wondering why it had to pick today of all days to shine. He didn’t mind the torrent of bad weather this winter, it felt almost as if he deserved it, nature punishing him for what happened. Derek doesn’t deserve to have a nice day just yet.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Forever

The sun was shining down on Beacon Hills, raising the temperature to what one would expect of mid-May instead of the last week of March. Mother Nature had been very tempermental this winter, harsh winds coursing through the town and even some snow flurries. Everyone was taking advantage of the sunshine, out running errands, driving with the windows down or just walking down the side walk.

Derek crossed the parking lot to his car, ignoring the brightness of the day, popping the trunk as he went to place the armful of groceries in the trunk. As the trunk snaps closed and Derek looks up, the Sheriff is standing between the cars looking at Derek with guarded eyes. The older man has been doing some training with the pack since he found about the supernatural and he picked it up as easily as Sti… as his son had. Derek didn’t even hear him approach.

"Good Morning, Derek," the Sheriff says tentatively.

For a second, Derek contemplates not even replying, just getting in his car and driving away, but the older man has strategically placed himself in front of the driver’s side door, like he knew that’s exactly what Derek would do. So instead, Derek takes a deep breath and says, “Morning, Sheriff Stilinski.” If his voice breaks on the name, neither of them comment on it.

"Beautiful weather we are having today," the Sheriff continues. Typical small talk of people in a small town. "I saw your car and thought I’d stop by to see if you were coming tonight."

A million thoughts crash through Derek’s mind at once, pretending he doesn’t know what he’s talking about, lying and saying yes or just yelling at the Sheriff, asking him why he expects so much from Derek. He settles on just meeting the Sheriff’s gaze and hoping the tremor in his hands isn’t noticeable from this distance.

The Sheriff realizes he’s not going to get an answer and lets out a soft sigh, “Please just come with us tonight, Derek, you know that’s what he would…..”

Before that dangerous sentiment could even be finished, Derek is jerking open the car door, bumping the Sheriff out of the way (which he would have to apologize for later), climbing in and slamming the door closed. He fumbles getting the key in the ignition before it slides home and the car is flying out of the parking lot before he even realizes the engine has turned over.

Derek’s knuckles whiten from his grip on the steering wheel. Everyone was trying to get him to go to the Stilinski’s house tonight but he just couldn’t do it. Not after everything that happened. How could they ask him to set foot in that house after Stiles left him like he did. His eyes start watering and he glares out the window at the sun, wondering why it had to pick today of all days to shine. He didn’t mind the torrent of bad weather this winter, it felt almost as if he deserved it, nature punishing him for what happened. Derek doesn’t deserve to have a nice day just yet.

He looks up to see where he’s at, almost not even surprised at his destination. He always ends up here. He shuts his car off before he gets out and walks through the grassy lot where his family’s house used to stand. It was Stiles who talked him into tearing it down. It was time, he was right. They stood right here, hand in hand, the whole time it was taken down, neither of them saying a word. Once the demolition crew was gone and the sun had started to set, Derek turned to look at Stiles still standing next to him. In that moment, his wolf determined it was time for let go of his old pack and family, embrace the new in his life, his new pack, and especially Stiles. Derek felt his wolf whisper mate when he leaned over and pressed his lips to the younger man’s forehead.

The trees are flying past Derek in a blur as he is running through the woods, he doesn’t even need to see where he is going, he’s taken this path a million times, there’s almost a groove in the ground. The spot always arrives sooner than he expects, he wants to run until he can’t breathe, can’t think, anymore but he never gets to that point before he finds this spot. His hand reaches out and runs along the carving in the tree, made by his own claws at Stiles’ urging.

Stiles + Derek forever

Suddenly, Derek is on the ground, his back pressed into rough bark of the tree, his knees unwilling to hold him up anymore. His arms wrap around his knees as he pulls them to his chest to quell the shaking in his body. Forever. So much promise in one word. When Stiles promised Derek his forever, he believed him. They visited this spot often, as a meet up when they got separated in the woods or just a spot to get away from the pack. Not that they could ever get away from them completely, the tree reeked of Derek and Stiles, any werewolf could smell it miles away, literally, they’d tested it one time.

Now Stiles’ scent just barely lingered, Derek wasn’t even sure if it was really his scent or if he was just imagining it, a coping mechanism to the man himself not being here with him anymore. This was the last place Derek saw Stiles, that memory alone should be enough to keep him far, far away, but he always ends up here.

They had been hunting Derek while he headed to meet Stiles at their tree. It had been a week since Derek had seen Stiles, kissed him, scented him. Stiles had been away at another college visit, Derek staying behind to keep an eye on his dad and the town because Stiles promised to meet him at their spot the moment he got back. Derek had planned on being there first but Stiles got back early.

Stiles turned when he heard Derek approach, his fingers running over the engraving on the tree. Jogging the last few steps, Derek pressed his lips to Stiles’, smothering whatever greeting he had planned. Once the younger man’s surpise wore off, he twisted Derek back into the tree, leaning against him, Derek pushing his hands under Stiles’ shirt, trying to find skin. Just as his nails raked low on Stiles’ back, a loud shot rang through the woods as Stiles jerked in Derek’s arms.

Derek’s eyes jerked open, his wolf already coming to the surface at the threat of danger and the smell of blood. But not his blood. Stiles fell limp against him, trembling lightly as he slid to the ground, Derek going with him.

"Stiles, what…" Derek started, noticing the blood on Stiles’ shirt and at the corner of his mouth where it wasn’t just a second ago.

"Derek, you’ve been shot," Stiles stutters out, raising his hand to Derek’s chest, "We’ve gotta get you to Deaton…" Stiles starts coughing, blood bubbling over his bottom lip as his eyes slip closed.

Derek frantically tries to cover the big hole in Stiles’ chest, ignoring the bullet lodged in his own chest, the same bullet that just ripped through Stiles. “STILES! Stiles, look at me, just look at me,” Derek shouts, shaking Stiles until he opens his eyes again. “Oh god, I’m so sorry.”

"I’m fine, I’m okay," Stiles manages around the blood now steadily dripping out of his mouth. His eyes meet Derek’s as he barely whispers, "Love you….forever…"

Derek cradles Stiles’ to his chest, whispering I’m sorry, so sorry as his cursed werewolf hearing picks up the exact moment Stiles’ lung collapses and his heart stops beating.

They found the hunter that shot Stiles, a newbie. A fool who mistook Stiles for a werewolf just because he was part of a pack. After tracking him down, they turned him over to the Sheriff, decided he deserved the right to put the man that killed his son behind bars. Derek would have gladly slashed the man’s throat and left him in the woods to choke on his own blood, but the pack said Stiles’ dad needed closure. That’s also how they decided to do the memorial at the Stilinski household, to remind the Sheriff he wasn’t alone and that he still had a pack. Derek didn’t need his pack, he needed Stiles.

The pack didn’t understand why Derek couldn’t show up tonight, he didn’t feel the need to explain it to them either. Derek let Stiles get shot, he didn’t deserve to the support of his pack on a day like today. He just needed more time.

"I’m so sorry," Derek mutters between dry sobs, "sorry I couldn’t give you forever." He sits in their spot, all alone, his mate’s scent just a whisper in a memory.

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this on my tumblr and completely forgot about it? It made me cry.


End file.
